San Francisco First
by TigerButterflied
Summary: Maybe Greg and Sara DID know each other back in San Francisco...
1. Chapter 1

Ever wonder HOW Sara knew Greg lost his virginity at 22? Ever think about the fact that they both came to Las Vegas CSI from the San Francisco lab? Finally, do you realize we never actually saw the two characters meet since in their first scene together they obviously already knew one another? From all this tiny tidbits begins a strange and twisted tale, all predicated on the possibility that they met back in SF. Yeah, this is a weird, AU Greg/Sara what-if tale, but it's an angle I've never seen, so I'm writing it even if it's wrong. I'm going with the actual age difference between the actors. 

"You're the new DNA guy? What's your name?" Sara Sidle looked hard at the young man - boy, really - who stood before her.

The kid in front of her flushed . "Greg. Greg Sanders." He extended his hand, and when she grasped it in a handshake she noticed it was shaking.

She looked him over critically. "How OLD are you?"

Greg Sanders' blush intensified and he looked down at his shoes. "Twenty-one. I ... I graduated early."

She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. She would have guessed several years younger. "Okay, then, new, very young DNA guy, process these. You DO know what they are, I assume?" The bags she passed to him contained used condoms.

"Of course." He sighed dramatically and turned away. " I'll get right on it."

Sara Sidle cast a backward glance at him as she walked out of the lab. He was cute, in a boyish, nerdy kind of way. She wondered fleetingly if he'd ever had a date, then swiftly discarded the thought. It wasn't any of her damned business. She looked back one more time and felt a hot blush redden her cheeks when she realized he was looking back. His eyebrows were raised as he studied her, and she gave him a half-smile, then looked away. Busted, both of them. She felt like a pervert, too, considering she was 28 and he was barely old enough to buy liquor.

"So I hear the new DNA boy has a thing for you." Colette DeSearn flopped down in the chair across from Sara. "He's skinny but he's sort of cute, or would be if you could get him out of his punk rocker nerd phase."

"He doesn't have a thing for me." Sara took a bite of her sandwich. "He's just twenty-one, you know."

"I would've guessed eightteen, but get a clue - he's got it bad."

"I've spoken with him all of, what, six times?"

"He follows you with his eyes."

"Donny's been talking to him. He's probably scared of me."

"Follows you with his eyes, then sighs and gets this weird smile. It's actually kind of sweet, Sara."

"So maybe he has a little bit of a crush on me. He's a kid."

"Twenty-eight is a lot closer to twenty-one than it is to forty-six."

"Kid's probably never even had a date. Change the subject, Co."

"He's SWEET! You know, you really should bother to get to know him before you write him off. The older guy thing just isn't working for you."

"I like older men, and I said change the subject. That wasn't a change of subject."

"Yeah, well, older men clearly aren't very good for you even if you DO like them - remember the last two? - and I wasn't done with this subject yet. Besides, you like him. I know you do."

Sara rolled her eyes. "I knew this was coming. Your romantic fantasies have finally rendered you delusional."

"You get nervous as soon as his name is mentioned. Don't get me started on what happens when he walks by."

"You're crazy."

"You look at his butt, too."

"I do a butt-check on all men. It's a reflex."

Colette laughed. "Bullshit, but creative bullshit at least." She wiped her mouth and got serious. "Look, just promise me you'll think about it."

"Think about what - getting you help?"

"Just think about getting to know the guy before you decide to write him off."

"We work together. Getting to know him is a given."

"Then just, just consider what I've said, okay? I'm thinking about you, girl. You're lonely. I worry boutcha."


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2. Still don't own them. 

A month later Sara Sidle had to admit to herself that Sanders did in fact have a thing for her, but that wasn't the worst of it. Now that she was getting to know him she began to understand this "kid" was one of the most intelligent men she'd met in years, and once he'd started to relax around her she'd been charmed by his bizarre sense of humor and boundless optimism. He flirted with a shy awkwardness she found somehow endearing, although the feelings he was stirring up were uncomfortable. On a more basic physical level, she had to admit she was drawn to him. He always smelled wonderful, and his beautiful eyes and contagious smile were magnetic. His jeans and t-shirts were ragged, and his hair stood up at odd angles (evoking the impression that perhaps he'd recently experienced electrocution), but his punk street-urchin appearance failed toquell her rebellious libido.

Colette was in full matchmaker mode now. As she sat down across from Sara she shook her head. "I noticed you looking into the DNA lab earlier."

She sighed. "Give it a rest, Colette."

"Never. You like what you see in there, don't you?" She grinned broadly. "I don't blame you. He's a real sweetheart; smart as hell, too."

"And still too young."

Colette snorted at that. "If you can date men 18 and 20 years older than you are you can at least give a chance to one who's seven years younger. "

"This is different."

"Really? How sexist."

"Co, I mean this in the nicest way, but shut up."

"You want him."

"I do not."

"Do too. You can't fool me, Sara; I've been your friend for too long. The boy fascinates you."

"Fine. Maybe I do like him, but that isn't the point."

"It IS the point. You're just too damned hard-headed to get it."

Sara shook her head. "I don't go for younger men. It wouldn't work."

"Why wouldn't it work?"

"It just wouldn't. Now drop it." And for once, she did.

"The report will be out in three minutes. "

Sara smiled nervously. "Great! I'll hang out here until it prints out."

"Good. So, what do you have planned for tomorrow night?" Greg Sanders leaned back against the table. They were on the same schedule; she knew that because he worked every day she did.

She shrugged. "Nothing special. Laundry maybe."

He grinned. "Would you, um, would you like to go to dinner, maybe catch a movie? With me, I mean."

She really intended to say no. She had her mouth set to say it, but then she looked into his eyes and saw hope mixed with adoration, all for her, and suddenly the word 'no' was gone and she was smiling right back. "I'd like that," she whispered. "I really would."


	3. Chapter 3

Sara heard the soft knock and adjusted her shirt and jeans, then looked in the mirror one last time. Satisfied, she grabbed her purse and opened the door. "Greg," she said with a smile. 

He blushed. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you!" She stepped out and closed the door to her apartment. "So where are we going?"

"Baraka." Sara raised her eyebrows; Baraka was one of the best restaurants in town, and it was pricey. "Afterward, I thought we might go see that National Lampoon movie - unless you'd rather see something else."

"No, that sounds wonderful. Baraka, Greg?"

He smiled shyly. "I want the night to be special."

And it was special. For all of his youth and punk rock persona, Greg Sanders was a true gentleman. He was so very nervous, but still he managed to make her laugh more than she'd laughed in years. He really was adorable, she thought as she smiled over at him. His chocolate eyes were bright with excitement as he clumsily flirted with her during dinner, and she was startled to find his awkward, earnest attentions moving her more than the practiced charm of her previous dates.

He slipped an arm around her during the movie, and she once again surprised herself by scooting closer. He smelled good, cologne and soap and coffee and warm skin, and something in her wanted to bury her nose in his shoulder to get closer to his wonderful aroma. She resisted, but stole a quick sniff of the arm that surrounded her. She smiled when she felt him nuzzle her hair. It appeared she wasn't the only sniffy one.

At the end of the date he stood in her doorway and extended one trembling hand to brush away an errant wisp of hair before gingerly touching his lips to hers. His mouth was warm and soft on hers, and when his tongue begged entry she granted it without hesitation. He tasted of coffee and mints and something indefinably appealing, and she pressed closer as his tongue caressed hers. He hadn't done this very much, she could tell that he hadn't, but his artless attentions affected her more than she cared to acknowledge. When finally she pulled back he looked at her with something akin to awe.

"I had a great time." She gestured into her apartment. "I need to..."

"Yeah. Okay. Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you go out with me again sometime?"

She smiled. "Yeah. That'd be nice. Um, when?"

"Maybe... maybe next week, when we're off? Like, maybe Thursday?"

"Thursday. Yeah, that'd be good."

He grinned wildly. "Yeah. Next Thursday."

"Goodnight, Greg."

"Night."

"So you two have a thing going now, don't you?" Colette's eyes were alight. "I told you he'd be good for you."

Sara frowned. "We've been out three times. I don't know I'd exactly call that a 'thing.' "

"Semantics. When's your next date?"

"Tuesday."

"And you went out twice last week." Colette smirked. "When you see each other more than once a week it's a 'thing.' "

"Fine. Whatever. We have a 'thing.' "

"Are you having fun together?"

Sara smiled as she remembered their last date. He'd taken her to Chinatown. "Yeah. We definitely are."

"Well, good. You like him, he likes you, you have a good time together. Relax and enjoy your new boyfriend."

And before she could sputter out an indignant reply, Co was out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks later she was sitting at Colette's dining room table eating cocolate-chip cookies fresh fromher oven. "So," Co said slowly, drawing the word out into several syllables, "How's your love life?"

Sara smiled and shook her head. "You are so nosy."

"That I am. Now back to the question. How are you and Mr. Sanders doing these days?"

"We're doing... okay." She took a bite of her cookie.

"Okay doesn't sound very good."

"Better than okay." Sara paused. "He's very young... and very sweet. He's smart and funny and we talk about anything and everything. He makes me feel special, cherished, like there's no woman on earth he'd rather be with."

"How is he in bed?"

"Colette!"

"Haven't done it yet, then. Why not?"

Sara was silent for a few moments. "It's just... he isn't exactly really aggressive in that department, and I'm, well, I'm trying to give him time, to, you know..."

"He's never done it before and you aren't sure you're up for that."

Sara sighed. "Yes, but not because I think he won't be any good or because I don't want to show him the rules of the road. I just think, you know, that first times should mean something more than just satisfying an urge. He's twenty-one, so obviously he must feel that way too. I need to be clear on what I feel for him before we cross the line."

Co nodded. "Yeah, he's crazy about you now. Once you sleep with him he'll fall head over heels. That kind of devotion can be overwhelming, but damn, it can be a beautiful thing."

"And it wouldn't be fair to him to put him into a situation where he's bound to be hurt, and badly. Right now, I'm not really sure how I feel about him. I mean, I'm attracted, and I care about him, but I'm not sure where this is going."

Co snorted. "Well, I hope you figure it out soon. You've been dating the boy for five weeks. Poor kid's probably got a world-class case of blue balls, and pretty soon you're going to have to take a second job to pay for all the damned batteries this is making you go through."

"Co!"

"I'll tell you what I think. I think you KNOW you love him, and that scares the hell out of you. I think you know that once you make love he'll be wanting more emotional closeness than you've ever given anyone, and that scares you. You hate making yourself vulnerable, and you know he's going to be so open to you that you'll have to let him in, and that's a risk. This really isn't so much about you hurting him as it is about you being afraid he might hurt you."

Sara didn't answer, just carefully examined the last bit of her cookie. Colette continued, her voice gentle. "You know, there's no shame in being afraid. The more someone means to you, the greater the hurt you risk, and the fact is that no relationship comes with a guarantee. He might hurt you, you might hurt him - or you may have an outcome neither of you could have antcipated. The point is this: The only way you can be sure you won't get hurt is to stop dating and resolve to spend your life alone. Greg Sanders genuinely cares about you. He is less likely to hurt you than those old goats you seem determined to chase after."

Sara frowned. "I don't agree. If we, well, get more involved, I'll be his first lover. Sooner or later he's bound to want to experience what sex with someone else is like."

"Perhaps one day he might - or he might not. You really can't know that. Sara, you're looking too far down the road. You can look and analyze and plot the likelihood of breakup from various causes all you want, but the bottom line is that you can't know what the future holds. Look, Sara, you can't apply logic and science to the dance of love. People aren't predictable. Look at me. I've been married to Will for nineteen years. Everyone said we wouldn't make it. I'm black, he's white, I came into the relationship with three smart-mouthed boys who didn't like being told what to do. His family literally disowned him when he married me. We struggled for every penny for the first ten years of our marriage - Will worked two jobs to put me through college, then I returned the favor so he could do the same. It was hard, and anyone looking at us would have said we had no chance, no chance - but Sara, look at us now! We're still together, still in love when a lot of those 'golden' couples everyone swore would be together forever didn't make it to their fifth anniversary. There's just no predicting relationships."

Sara sighed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need to let life happen this time."

"I know I'm right. You need to stop writing off the guys who are good and decent and really want to be with you and apply that gear to the old buzzards who don't want anything from you but a little ass. You're going about this whole thing backwards. The ones who don't push your boundaries closeness-wise are like that because they don't give a damn. A man who really loves you won't be content being held at a comfortable distance. Remember that."


	5. Chapter 5

Very short, for the meanness of it. You'll see just what I mean in a minute. 

"Shit!" Sara pulled her singed hand back quickly and slammed the oven door shut. She hadn't done much cooking lately. With only herself to consider, she tended to rely mostly on microwave meals and takeout. Tonight, however, she was cooking for her date.

She smiled as she thought of him. She and Greg had been dating for seven weeks now, and this would be her first attempt at cooking for him. After all the nice restaurants he'd taken her to, she wanted this meal to be special, so she'd cooked what she did best - lasagna. She only hoped he liked it. Of, course, she thought with a smile, food was not likely to be the main thing on his mind tonight. They'd gone from chaste goodnight kisses to torrid makeout sessions, the last three of which had left them both panting and frustrated. She'd stopped him every time, but tonight she intended to let things go as far as he wanted them to - and she knew he wasn't going to want to stop short of full intimacy.

He was definitely a virgin. She'd suspected as much from the beginning, and he'd actually told her so about a month into the relationship. Things had progressed slowly from a physical standpoint, but progress they had. Tonight they would become lovers. She felt nervous and excited and unbearably turned on at the thought of it. She was determined to make his first time special, a sweet, magical introduction to physical love he'd remember forever. Her own first time had been far from lovely, another painfully sharp stone on the hard, rocky road of her life. She'd made a mistake, given something meaningful to a man who cared nothing for her, and although she couldn't take it back she could make sure Greg's first time was with someone who cared about him.

A soft knock at the door shook her from her thoughts. She opened the door and smiled nervously as he slipped in and closed the door. "Whatever's cooking smells great," he said with a glance toward the kitchen.

"Lasagna. I fix it a lot - well, not a lot because I don't cook a lot, but when I do I like to make lasagna."

"I like lasagna a lot." He looked at the floor, then back up at her. "You look great, by the way."

"Oh, um, thanks. So do you." And he did, dressed in his dark jeans and a black dress shirt.

He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. "You smell wonderful, too." He dropped a slow, soft kiss on her lips. "I missed you."

She chuckled. "Yeah, you haven't seen me in, what, twelve hours?"

"Twelve hours is a long time, Sara." He released her slowly and sauntered over to the counter. "So what can I help you do?"

"You can light the candles and turn off the lights. The lasagna and bread will be out in... hmmm... seven minutes."

After eating they left the candles burning and moved to the sofa. Ten minutes later they were both panting and disheveled. She pulled away from him. "Greg," she whispered softy.

"You want me to stop."

"No. No, but if you don't mind I'd like to move this to the bedroom. If that's okay with you..."

His eyes widened. "Uh, yeah. Okay. That'd be, that'd be great..."


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry this took so long, but this proved a very difficult chapter to write. This is very, very short, and it is seriously, definitely an M - again, roughly as graphic as one of those bodice-rippers you can pick up at Barnes and Nobles. Be warned. 

In flickering candlelight she slowly undressed first herself and then him. He was as pale as moonlight, his dappled skin shivering gooseflesh under her gentle hands. He was very thin, even more so than she'd thought, and his eyes were anxious and pleading. 'Please like what you see,' he asked without words. 'Please don't be disappointed.'

Sara smiled and gently pushed him back onto the bed. "Now let me see... Oh, yes, very nice," she whispered, stroking one hand down his smooth, pale chest. She sat next to him and her hand slipped lower, began touching him intimately, making him gasp. "Oh! Very, VERY nice," she whispered silkily. "Don't be nervous, Greg. I've got you. This is going to be really, really good."

He reached up and pulled her into a kiss. "I love you," he whispered against her lips, then slid his hands around to cup her breasts. "You are so beautiful."

"I'm glad you think so." She took one of his hands in hers and pulled it lower. "Oh, yeah, right there. Right on my... Oh, yeah, just like that."

A few minutes later, she pulled on his arm. "Now, Greg. "

He was shaking as he slipped between her legs and covered her. He gave her a fervent kiss as she gently placed him at her wet entrance. He surged forward to bury himself in her. "Oh, Sara," he breathed, then began to move. "Oh, oh."

It was over quickly, and in the aftermath he clutched her to himself. She sighed into as he stroked her damp hair from her face, his expression one of awed adoration. "Thank you," he whispered softly. "That was beyond anything I could have imagined or hoped for."

She kissed him softly. "That WAS beautiful, wasn't it?" She smiled and pressed her nose into his neck. "You're so sweet."

They slipped into sleep together then, his thin arms holding her as close as humanly possible, and for the first time in a long time, Sara Sidle slept through the night.


End file.
